A Plague at the Sink

A Plague at the Sink

Humans are not

without their diseases

Some physical maladies

have their inoculations

for prevention

some have other medical cures

or none at all

The disease of old age

has no cure

There is no hindrance

to the advance of time

Its toxicity is memory

of ingratitudes

and wrongs against others

The symptoms rage

in the lonely darkness

with no physical pains

It is the soul set afire

No matter how deep

our head sinks in prayer

for forgiveness

the flames lick at us

with their raspy tongues

raking each moment

as if we'd been fed

through a grater

Creation is a temporary salve

music

art

poetry

nature

a change in how

we treat others

making amends

where possible

These reduce

the terrors

as dishes are washed in the sink

Barry G. Wick